Full Recovery – IceMav
by Mrs. Anderton
Summary: Maverick suffers from memory loss after a motorcycle accident. Some painful moments have to be put back into his brain, and Ice is weirdly looking out for him. He only remember them being rivals – is Iceman leaving out something?
1. Ellipsis

Pitch black. A high-pitched beep at regular intervals. Muffled voices, somewhere. Hurried steps. Diffuse pain.

Maverick stirred, moved his fingers, clenched his fists. Slowly, with disproportionate effort, he managed to open his eyes a bit. All he could see at first was a huge blur; then the blur slowly turned into colours, shapes, and silhouettes.

"Maverick, thank God", sighed a feminine voice to his left. He turned his head with difficulty; on a chair next to the bed sat a blonde, curly-haired woman. "Just in time", she smiled, obviously relieved. "My plane is leaving in an hour and a half – I was terrified at the thought that you might not wake up before that, but here you are!" She leant forward and kissed him on the forehead. "I've got to go. I've left you my Washington number on the bedside table. Call me tonight, okay?"

Maverick frowned, and watched her leave. As hard as he tried, he couldn't figure out why he was in a hospital, with the number of a woman he didn't know on his bedside table, and why he was supposed to call her.

A moment later, a white-dressed nurse came by, a weary look on her face.

"You're awake", she observed. "How do you feel?"

"What happened?" he asked.

"You had a motorcycle accident, darling. Do you remember?"

Again, he searched his brain for memories. And suddenly, he realized that he did know the blonde woman: it was Charlie. They'd been flirting… he'd been at her house once, but nothing more. She was an instructor… Top Gun instructor. He was a pilot, and he was at Top Gun, with his R.I.O Goose. The memories seemed to come back one after the other. He remembered flying by the tower after having 'killed' one of the flight instructors, Jester. That was one of the most recent memories.

"Mr. Mitchell, do you remember?" the nurse repeated.

"I don't remember anything about a motorcycle accident", he murmured.

"Well, the police said you were hit by a car at a crossroad. It had gone through a red light – they're responsible. Fortunately, nothing broken, but you hit your head pretty hard and you didn't have a helmet."

He closed his eyes, trying again to find that memory. He couldn't.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"Three days… your girlfriend and a friend of yours have been visiting a few times a day."

"Goose", he said.

"I guess. Tall, blond–"

Maverick frowned. "Not blond."

"Well, he was definitely blond."

The face came to his mind. Iceman. Iceman had been visiting? They kind of hated each other… And Goose hadn't come. That was weird.

"Speak of the devil", exclaimed the nurse. "He's right here."

In the doorframe in front of Maverick's bed was standing a tall silhouette, arms along his body. They looked at each other, Maverick still trying to figure out why on earth Iceman would come and visit him here, when they were rivals.

"Mitchell", Iceman nodded. "How you feeling?"

"Weird", he responded.

The nurse smiled at them both and left. Iceman walked towards Maverick's bed.

"Why are you here?", Maverick asked point-blank.

Iceman seemed surprised. After an instant, he answered: "Well… I was worried about you…"

Not convinced at all, Maverick glowered at him. He finally decided to worry about this sudden change of sentiment later. He had another concern in mind:

"Where is Goose?"

Iceman's eyes widened, his brow knitted. He pressed his lips together, looked around, and finally laid his eyes back on Maverick, still frowning.

"What… what do you remember, Mitchell?"

Maverick shrugged. "The last thing I remember is we killed Jester and flew by the tower. Oh, and that night I couldn't sleep and Goose came to me and we talked."

"That's all?"

"Pretty much… must be the most recent memory I have."

Maverick couldn't help but notice that Iceman's eyes showed a huge concern.

"What is it, Ice?" he asked.

Iceman gulped.

"You…" he began. "You're sure you don't remember anything after that?"

"No", Maverick said after a moment of thinking.

The blond pilot looked away, and shook his head slowly.

"You…" he began. "Well, your last memory is from, like, two or three weeks ago…"

Two or three weeks ago, Maverick repeated in his head. How was that possible? The nurse's words resonated in his mind: _You hit your head pretty hard._

Suddenly very alarmed, Maverick murmured: "I… I have a memory loss?"

Iceman looked at him again; he seemed sorry now. "It seems so".

"What happened? What did I forget?"

"Well… a lot of things happened", Ice said, careful of his every word.

"Like what, Ice? Tell me."

"We were flying. You were my wingman, and I – I cleared to let you get a clean shot on whoever we were supposed to kill. You flew into my jetwash… you lost control. Flat spin. You had to eject… Goose hit the canopy."

Maverick looked at him, horrified. He couldn't get a word out. Iceman gulped again, and looked down.

"He died instantly."

Everything inside of him was suddenly burning. He couldn't even form a thought anymore. It wasn't possible. It didn't happen. Goose couldn't… he couldn't be dead. His best friend couldn't be dead.

He felt a warm hand around his. "I'm sorry, Maverick. I'm so sorry", Ice mumbled in a shaky voice.

He sat there for a while, helpless spectator of Maverick's shock for the second time. He didn't let go of his hand until the nurse told him that it was time to let him rest. They both went out of the room and in the corridor, then Iceman told her. She said it was more than likely after the concussion he'd suffered; that she'd inform the doctor, and that they'd have him fully checked again. Iceman thanked her weakly and left.


	2. Omission

"Need a ride home?" Iceman asked as he watched Maverick stand up.

"That would be great."

Viper, Wolfman and Iceman had spent the previous day filling Maverick's brain with the memories he'd lost. The accident had happened right after the Review Board had declared he was not guilty of the incident. Iceman avoided Maverick's eyes sometimes, and Maverick couldn't help but think that he was deliberately leaving something unsaid, something that would explain why he was so concerned about him. But every time, he shook off the thought; maybe Ice just felt guilty about the incident that had killed Goose, and wanted to make up for that.

"I'm getting dressed", Maverick said.

Iceman simply nodded.

"Ice, _I'm getting dressed_", he repeated with insistence.

"Oh, right", mumbled Ice, turning around to give Maverick some privacy.

Not a word was spoken during the ride home. When they arrived in front of Maverick's house, Iceman got out of the car too and escorted him to his doorstep. "I'm not going to collapse, Ice", Maverick reassured him sarcastically. He felt quite good, really, considering everything he'd had to take in in the last few days. His body was still aching, his head in particular, but he was okay.

But Iceman had something else in mind. "You don't remember anything else, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Apart from what we've told you. Are any other memories coming back by themselves?"

Maverick seemed puzzled: "No… why do you ask?"

"Nurse said they could come back after a few days", Iceman shrugged. "So you're gonna be okay, right?"

"Sure. Don't worry."

"Want me to pick you up tomorrow? I know you're not allowed to fly yet, but spending the day at the base is way better than vegetating here."

"Yeah, okay", Maverick nodded.

"Alright then, see you tomorrow."

Once alone and sprawled on his sofa with some bread and butter – he'd found them fresh on the kitchen table, probably left there by Charlie before she left – he began to feel slightly nauseous again. For a moment, all he could think about was Goose. He still couldn't bring himself to believe that he was dead. Gone, and not coming back. It was a peculiar feeling that the 'memories' he had from that were not even his, but others'. He had tried a few times to remember the incident, the flat spin; he tried again, without success. He got lost in his thoughts and in memories that weren't his. He thought about Charlie; Viper, Wolfman and Ice hadn't said anything about her, but they weren't supposed to know anything. Something more than flirting must've happened, judging by the way she'd acted. He hadn't called her like she asked him to. From the flashes of his phone's messages receiver, she'd try to call him a few times. He was starting to feel guilty about it, when he realized that he couldn't be blamed – he was stuck in the flirting part. And she probably had called Viper or someone by now, and knew about him.

It was getting darker and darker outside; a few hours had passed when he found himself completely exhausted from thinking and trying to remember. With great effort, he raised from the sofa, brushed the crumb off his clothes, and headed for the shower and a long, refreshing night.


	3. Taking Off

"I'm leaving you here, Mitchell", Ice said as the others started going to the tarmac. The dawn was slowly but surely turning into day. He looked at him hesitantly, then turned away and caught up with the others.

Maverick had been picked up by a ruffled Iceman as the daylight was just showing up. He'd woken up on time and been punctual; he didn't want Iceman to be late because of him, and he was grateful for his offer of taking him to the base.

He walked for fifteen minutes, until he reached the third of the runway – approximately the place where the Tomcats left the ground. They were lining up, making the last checks. Finally, the first one pushed his engines to full power, eased the brakes and accelerated quickly, until he reached take-off speed, nosed up and lifted off the ground. The others followed. Maverick watched them until they were only small dots in the morning sky.

He sat, then lied down in the moist grass and closed his eyes. After a while, the sun came caressing his face. A few times, he heard the planes, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to see more than dots, even if he was lucky. He kept his eyes closed. His mind was incredibly peaceful and empty of thoughts. Another plane was lining up; he listened closely, and could even hear the moment it left the ground.

A few hours passed. A few planes took off and landed. And finally, with the burning early afternoon sun came the squadron of Tomcat's sound, getting closer and closer. Maverick opened his yes, sat up and saw one of them in approach, its wings fully forward. Far behind, the others appeared, one by one. He watched them all land, wishing he was in one of them. He then made his way back to the tarmac. The pilots and their RIOs had climbed down their planes already. Maverick spotted Iceman and Slider, who were still next to theirs, whereas the others were leaving already.

They were fighting. Slider was glowering at Ice; they didn't speak loud, but the tension was tangible. Slider's points were clenched. Suddenly, he shouted something at his pilot. Ice reacted immediately, and shouted back.

"…then someone has to!"

Even from the distance, Maverick heard the words distinctly. He frowned. Iceman and Slider stuck together no matter what. He'd never seen them disagree on anything, let alone yell at each other.

Slider left in a furious pace, catching up with the rest of the pack as they entered the building. Ice lingered next to his plane; he was slowly walking around it, caressing the fuselage, looking down. Maverick walked towards him.

"What was that about?" he asked when he was close enough.

Surprised, Iceman looked up. "Hey", he said tensely. He stared at Maverick for a moment, then said, shrugging: "Nothing, really. We… had a slight disagreement up there. But it's nothing."

Maverick nodded. He felt he'd better not ask further questions. Clearly Ice didn't want to talk about it now – if he changed his mind, he could always explain later.

The afternoon was quite uneventful. Maverick went to the tax trailer with them for the debriefing of the morning's training. It was already 1800 hours when they were dismissed. Without even asking, Iceman nodded Maverick to his car.

" Well, here you are", Iceman announced once arrived in front of Maverick's home. Maverick didn't move. "Tired of your exhausting day, Mitchell?"

"Shut up, Ice. You know what I would've given to be up there."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Hey…" Maverick hesitated. "Why don't you stay a while? We could order pizza or something."

Iceman took off his aviators and looked at him, an almost mocking smile on his lips. Maverick wished he hadn't said anything. He was about to get out of the car when Ice, serious again, finally said: "You don't want to be alone with your non-memories, right…"

_So right it's weird_, Maverick thought.

"Alright, Mitchell. Let's order pizza or something."

Two pizza boxes and four bottles of beer having been emptied, they both felt way more cheerful than they had in a long time. They'd talked about their past as naval aviators, from first flight to first carrier landing. They'd talked about Top Gun, about Viper, about their fellow pilots and R. , even about Goose. It felt good to be able to talk to someone, Maverick realized.

Ice recounted the training of the day. At some point, he stopped, and said: "You know, what Slider and I were fighting about earlier…"

"Yeah", Maverick encouraged him.

"Well, it wasn't really nothing. I… I didn't fly how I usually do."

He paused, looking outside the window.

"You'll think I'm stupid."

"Probably, but it's worth a try", Maverick teased him.

Iceman smiled. He continued: "I was dangerous, today, Maverick."

There was a silence during which they just stared at each other, and Maverick was processing the thought. Iceman, the safe one, whose manoeuvres were anthology, book-perfect.

"Why?" was the only word that came out of Maverick's lips.

"I don't know. I felt… Well, while you were out, I felt there was something missing in the squadron. Apart from… you, as a person. And then I realized. The squadron needs a dangerous flyer. It's part of what we should deal with."

He paused, pressing his lips together.

"You think that's ridiculous, don't you."

"No, actually, I don't", Maverick asserted. Remembering what he'd saw earlier, he chuckled. "So Slider didn't appreciate your new way of flying, I guess."

"Yeah, he was pissed off. He told me that I carelessly put both our lives in danger. That lately he couldn't make me out anymore, that he didn't know what was going on with me. That he'd report me to Viper if I kept flying like that." He let out a dry laugh.

That must've been when Maverick heard him say "someone has to". He tried to picture Ice up there, piloting the Tomcat recklessly, with a pissed-off Slider in the back, shouting into the comm. He chuckled.

Ice broke the silence: "Anyway. That's enough about me. How… how are you doing, Maverick? You had quite a lot to take in at once…"

"Yeah… well, at times I feel fine. And then… suddenly there's those overwhelming thoughts about Goose. And I… it doesn't feel real, because I've forgotten it all, and everything that I know is what you told me. It just feels… weird, you know."

Iceman nodded, and gave him a weak, sympathetic smile. He could only imagine what it was like, of course. But he felt that he understood Maverick pretty well.

"Is there anything else I can do, Mitchell?" he asked.

Maverick hesitated. He didn't know for sure what they were; all this sure felt like friendship, but was Ice being so nice only because he felt guilty about Goose's death, and bad for Maverick? Then, with the few beers helping in the decision, he said:

"I could use a hug."

Iceman chuckled. "Not the kind of help I was thinking of, but okay."


	4. Remembering

Ice's body was warm. They held each other tight; Maverick relished the sensation of their torsos pressed together. Such powerful physical contact felt more comforting than any words. He felt protected, secure. He closed his eyes and let Iceman's smell fill his nostrils.

A flash. A dark room; a man talking in the front, a screen. People sitting on tight tiers. Iceman, looking at him in the eyes. A long, deep stare. No blinking. A crooked smile formed on his lips; he turned his head to look at the man talking.

He opened his eyes to the sight of his living room. Iceman was still holding him. He frowned. What had this been? It had seemed so real. Like… a memory. He closed his eyes again, and inspired deeply.

Hands touching in the dark, warm atmosphere. One slowly guiding the other; both coming to lie on a thigh. A gentle, but teasing caress. Intermingling fingers.

"I remember", Maverick murmured, opening his eyes and letting go of Iceman. They were now facing each other closely.

"What do you remember?" Ice asked softly.

In a whisper, Maverick questioned: "Something happened, right? Between us."

The blond pilot simply looked at him, imperturbable. "What do you remember, Maverick?" he repeated calmly.

Maverick didn't say anything. He just kept staring at him. Ice's hand was resting on his thigh; gently, Maverick slid his hand under Ice's palm. Not breaking eye-contact, he waited for his reaction.

Iceman's fingers slid between Maverick's and closed around his hand. He leaned forward, imperceptibly slowly. When their lips were just about to touch, Maverick whispered: "Why didn't you tell me?"

Iceman froze. "I…", he hesitated. "I thought… maybe it was better this way." He sighed. "When I realized you didn't remember anything, I was… pretty shook up. But then I thought that you were probably better off without me. You deserve better, Mitchell."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't, but–"

"That's right, you don't", Maverick interrupted him, impatient. "So shut up, Kazansky."

Taking just a second to admire the shocked look on Iceman's face, he grabbed his neck and kissed him. Passed the surprise, Ice kissed him back.

The kiss was feverish. Maverick felt the effects of it spread through his body. He put one leg over Ice's to face him better; his hands went travelling down his back and stopped on his hips.

They broke the kiss and rested their foreheads against each other's, breathing hard. Iceman's fingers came tracing Maverick's lips tenderly. "I'm glad you remember", he whispered.

Maverick smiled. "I don't remember everything. Just… the tax trailer."

"Oh, that's a shame", Iceman chuckled.

"What else happened? Show me?"

Iceman tucked up Maverick's t-shirt a bit, silently asking for permission. Maverick nodded, still smiling.

"This happened", Ice said as he took off Maverick's shirt completely. He threw it away, and put one hand on Maverick's naked torso, pushing him down gently until he was lying on the couch. He then took off his own shirt, put one folded leg between Maverick and the backrest of the couch.

He leaned over him. "And this". He dived for his neck and kissed it wildly. Maverick embraced him and held him tight, with all the strength he had. In response, Ice moved his other leg and thrust his lower body against Maverick's, making him gasp.

Maverick's lips searched for Ice's. They shared a heated kiss; with each flick of tongue, the movements of their bodies became more feverish. Maverick bit Iceman's lower lip lightly, provoking a moan. "Do you remember?" Iceman breathed.

Maverick shook his head.

"Well, it's just like you do", he smiled before kissing him again.


	5. After Dawn

Iceman was leaning on his elbow, watching his companion sleep. The first rays of sun came lighting the walls. Maverick stirred, letting out a moan. Still asleep, laying on his side facing Iceman, he tried to pull the blanket back on his naked torso; Iceman helped him, and his hand lingered on Maverick's back. He traced his spine, neatly defined by the strong muscles on each side of it. The hand went all the way up to the base of his hair, and then down the trapezius muscle to his shoulder, from the shoulder to the chest, form the chest to the hip. His fingers strolled on it for a while, and then went back to the base of the spine. He caressed the spot of transition between the strong back muscles and Maverick's perfectly-shaped bottom.

The dark eyelashes flickered open. It took Maverick a little while to realize who was the blond figure watching him, and why he was even in the same bed, naked; when he did, a grin formed on his lips. "Hey", he chuckled, reaching for Ice's hand on his lower back and intermingling fingers with him.

"Hey", Ice responded. He smiled back at him and caressed his fingers. "Slept well?"

"Yeah. You?"

Iceman shrugged. "Yeah." He hadn't slept much, actually. His biological clock had woken him up early, and instead of falling back asleep, he'd preferred to watch Maverick.

Maverick glanced at the window, and remarked: "But the sun's well up already! You're late, aren't you?"

"I guess", Iceman laughed softly. "But who cares. Viper's not going to be happy with me, but it's lessons this morning, flying's this afternoon."

Maverick shook his head, falsely reproving. He couldn't say he wasn't happy that Ice was still there with him when he should've left more than an hour ago. He drew closer to him, negligently passed an arm around his waist and slid one of his legs between Ice's, who shivered slightly.

"You're teasing me, Mitchell", Ice said with an overly serious look.

"Well noticed, Kazansky."

"I can't tolerate that."

"I'm not afraid of you", Maverick replied.

"You should be."

"Why?"

"Because I can do that", Ice murmured, taking Maverick's lower lip in between his', and gently releasing it. Eyes closed, Maverick moaned, and smiled. Ice smiled back at him. Then, without warning, Maverick threw himself on Iceman and took them into a roll; they stopped just before the edge of the bed. Maverick was towering over him, a triumphant look on his face.

"What are you gonna do with me, Mitchell?" Iceman asked, faking fear.

"I've got to think about it. But I thought I could start with this–" he leant forward and they embarked in a long, deep kiss.

"And maybe continue with this." He slid his hand between their bodies and ran it down Iceman's abdominals, and further. Iceman gasped.

"I'd say I'm sorry about what's gonna happen", Maverick whispered. They locked eyes together.

Iceman continued in a breath: "But you're not."

Maverick shrugged apologetically and shook his head. "I'm not, Tom."

At the sound of his first name, Iceman chuckled softly. With one hand, he drew his companion's head closer and kissed him while his other hand was joining Maverick's.


	6. Broken Wings

A few days passed. Maverick and Iceman developed a routine – they'd go at the base together, sit next to each other during the classes, only making physical contact when the room was dark enough for it to go completely unnoticed by the others. It was often Maverick who, in those moments, reached for Ice's hand or forearm; the videos they were shown often triggered flashes of his flying with Goose, of the flat spin, and the bailing. The flashes formed a puzzle that he didn't have the capacities to put together yet – or maybe he just didn't want to.

Maverick would watch his fellow pilots take off and wait for them to come back. The doctor had said he'd have to wait a while longer to go up there again. A part of him couldn't wait to feel the control stick of the F-14 in his hands again, but the other part was afraid. Afraid of what he might remember.

"What if, when I go up there again, I have those flashes?", he confided in Ice one evening, as they were lying on the couch. "What if I remember things… and lose control?"

Iceman's hand caressed his hair gently. "Maverick", he said softly. "What you will remember when you're up there, is who you are. Life hasn't been easy on you lately, but you're still Maverick, and that Maverick – well, he's a pain in the ass, but he's fierce, and strong, and no matter what memories come back to him, he'll be fine."

Maverick turned around to look at Iceman, and smiled at the confident look on his face. Ice smiled back and ruffled Maverick's hair before applying a quick kiss on his lips. Maverick expected the kiss to last more; he sat there with eyes closed, his lips parted, frowning. And suddenly, he smiled; a half-smile, not quite convinced yet. He opened his eyes: "And what if…"

"No, Mitchell, no more what-ifs", Ice interrupted him. "You're way too cute when you do that. I should quick-kiss you more often just to see that look on your face."

"Ice, listen", Maverick commanded, and Iceman looked serious again. "What if I flew with you first?"

Iceman studied his companion's face closely. He frowned. "What if you flew with me…" He put a hand on Maverick's face and stroked it with his thumb. "I don't know. It would seem weird, wouldn't it? I mean, everyone knows that we aren't, like, _enemies_ anymore. But flying together…"

"What? Flying with someone doesn't necessarily mean you senselessly fuck that someone at night."

Iceman chuckled, his face brightening. The corners of his lips lifted, he shook his head softly, and looked at Maverick in the eyes. "Mitchell… even the way you talk."

Maverick gave him a punch on the chest, laughing. "Can't you be serious for two seconds, Kazansky! I want to be your RIO for one day. I want to see how I'm doing in the back seat first. I'm sure Viper will be okay with it. As for Slider, he hasn't exactly seemed happy to fly with you in the last couple of days, so I'm assuming a day off would be welcome for him."

Iceman pressed his lips together, thinking. Maverick put his elbows on Ice's strong chest, and rested his head on his hands, looking at him closely, a small smile on his lips.

"You little bastard, I can't refuse you anything if you're looking at me like this", Iceman finally let out.

The smile on Maverick's lips got wider. He leaned forward and gave Iceman a quick kiss, and then watched him get caught in the game he'd won just a few minutes before. Opening his eyes slowly, Iceman watched Maverick with a challenging look. Maverick game him an apologetic smile; he then stretched his arms on both sides of Iceman's head so he was completely lying on him, face against his chest.

"Mitchell, you're not a cat", Iceman sighed.

Nonchalantly, he extended his arm, reaching for the radio on the table.

"What are you doing?" Maverick asked in Ice's t-shirt.

"We could use some music", Iceman shrugged. He turned on the radio and turned the button until a clear sound came out of it.

_…think tonight, we can take what was wrong, and make it right._

Maverick straightened a bit, pricking up his ears.

_Baby, it's all I know, that you're half of the flesh and blood that makes me whole._

"Never heard that before", he said.

"Neither", Iceman replied.

_I need you so._

They looked at each other deeply. Iceman raised his head from the armrest where it laid; Maverick pushed on his arms so that his face was directly over Ice's. Slowly, he leaned down on him.

_So take…_

They engaged in a long, deep kiss.

_…these broken wings…_

Ice's hand came brushing Maverick's hair at the base of the neck. The muscles were tense, strong.

_…and learn to fly again, learn to live so free. _

Maverick smiled against Iceman's lips. "Did we just find our theme song?"

"Come on, don't be cliché, Mitchell", Ice frowned with mock seriousness before kissing him again.


	7. Push the Edge

"I missed that magnificent beast", Maverick spoke into the comm as Ice pushed the throttle forward, pulling the Tomcat's nose up soon after.

Once Ice had stabilized the ascension angle, he replied: "Not sure whether you're talking about the Tomcat or about pilot me", he teased.

Maverick laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry Ice, you're not as hot as the afterburners."

They trained with the others, Maverick sometimes forgetting his role as a R.I.O; in these moments, an admirably calm Ice would just remind him to "just look at this fucking radar". There were flashes, but Maverick was expecting them – they had become more and more often over the past few days. All moments of flying with Goose. Once, the image of Ice and a bogey in line before him came in front of his eyes; from the explanations the others had given him, this was the situation that had induced the flat spin.

But he managed not to get caught in the flashes, and stay as focused on the flight as he could. Finally, Ice got one of the bogeys locked; they were then ordered to return to the base.

"We make a hell of a pair", Ice observed in a low voice in the locker room. "If you weren't that good of a pilot–"

"Hey, what's up with you two?", Wolfman interrupted him, an interrogative smile on his lips. "What are you, best friends now?"

Iceman and Maverick looked at each other, then Ice replied: "Well, life hasn't exactly been easy on poor Mav these times". He patted his shoulder, smiled at him. Then, looking at Wolfman again: "I don't know, I guess I just figured he might need someone."

Wolfman made an approving pout. "Yeah, I get it. Anyway, you two were great up there today."

"Thanks, but I'm still trying to figure out what the green dots on the round screen meant", Maverick murmured, frowning.

The three of them laughed; Wolfman went back to his locker to finish dressing up. Maverick slipped a hand on Ice's naked back and brushed the border of the towel that was tied around his hips.

"Don't do that, Mitchell", Ice said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I wouldn't. I'm a civilized person, Kazansky", Maverick whispered in his ear before turning away.

"You didn't finish your sentence".

They were at Maverick's place, in the kitchen. Ice was sitting on the counter while Maverick was making them something to eat.

"What?" Iceman asked.

"Earlier, in the locker room. If I weren't that good of a pilot…"

Ice chuckled. "Oh, yeah. If you weren't that good of a pilot, I'd shamelessly make you my official R.I.O."

Maverick shook his head. "If I weren't that good of a pilot, we wouldn't have met", he corrected.

"Yeah… right. Come here", Ice sighed, opening his arms as Maverick came standing between his legs. He placed both hands behind the dark-haired pilot's back in a lazy embrace. They looked at each other in the eye, deeply; then Ice lowered his head. "You know, I was just this close to telling Wolfman the truth in that locker room."

Maverick laughed softly. Putting a finger under Ice's chin to make him raise it, he said: "Don't be silly, Ice. Nobody can know. We're in the military, it's taboo, remember?"

"Yeah… But I don't know, sometimes I just want people to know. I'm not ashamed of it. Actually, I'm proud of being with you…"

Maverick traced Ice's jawline with his fingers, looking at him intensely. "I am, too. And I know what you mean, I'd like to share it with people sometimes. Well… with Goose, mostly."

Ice lowered his head again at the name of Maverick's dead best friend. His hands left his partner's back and came resting on the edge of the counter. "I don't deserve you, Maverick."

"You still feel guilty?" Maverick asked softly, frowning. He took Ice's hands in his own, caressing them. He shook his head slowly: "Tom, don't. We've talked about this already. Nobody's guilty: you're not, I'm not. It was an accident. You hear me? It was a fucking accident."

Iceman looked at him apologetically. "Still. I'm sorry, Pete. I'm not enough."

"I'm stopping you right there, Lieutenant Kazansky", Maverick said, raising a hand between them. "What do you _mean_ you're not enough? You're more than enough. Where's the cocky Iceman?"

Ice chuckled half-heartedly. "Sometimes conscience takes over confidence."

"Conscience can get the fuck out of my house", he replied, taking two beers in the fridge and opening them. "What I need, what's enough for me, is the normal, cocky version of you. Cheers", he said, offering Iceman a beer.

"Alright, then. I'll do my best to be the dickhead you like."

Maverick smiled brightly. "Thanks."

They both took a sip, and Maverick drew closer to Ice, passing a hand in his hair. "What is it that you like about me?"

"You asked me that once", Ice chuckled. "But you don't remember, do you?"

"No. Tell me again."

"I like the way you talk, I like your confidence". Maverick raised an eyebrow, silently saying "_See?_". Iceman smiled, and continued: "I like your attitude and the way you fly. You put me through hell being dangerous. I had to resist you everyday – until I didn't have to anymore. I like the scent of your hair. I like the feeling of your body against mine."

Maverick gently pushed against Ice's crotch between his spread legs. He whispered: "Did you ask me what I liked about you, last time?"

"I did", Ice replied in a breath.

"What did I say?"

"You said that my iciness had awoken a desire of challenge in you. You like the way I look at you, you like when my hair's all ruffled and you think I'm adorable when I look tired. You like it when I hold you very tightly."

"Accurate", Maverick approved. He leaned forwards, Ice embraced him not to fall backwards, and they kissed tenderly.


	8. Under Cover of Darkness

Twilight was starting to tint the sky of a delicate orange when Maverick was dismissed from Viper's office. He was still in his flight suit, and his neck was still covered in sweat.

Viper had called him to talk about his return as a pilot. He'd asked him how everything had gone the day before, when he'd flown as Ice's R.I.O, and Maverick told him the truth – that he'd had a few flashbacks, but manageable ones. Viper had simply nodded, and asked him if he thought he was ready for the front seat. He said he felt so.

Then they had talked of things and others, for quite a while. Viper seemed happy to see that Ice and him were getting along together.

He made his way back to the locker room, thinking it would be empty by then, only to find Ice sitting on one of the banks, alone, the usual towel wrapped around his hips. "Didn't expect it would take that long", he said when Maverick arrived.

"Yeah, seems like old Viper needs someone to talk to", Maverick replied, taking off his flight suit. Iceman stood up and came close to him; he passed his arms around Maverick's neck and kissed him gently. Maverick smiled: "If you don't mind, I'm gonna take a shower first. I must stink."

Ice took a sniff and stepped backwards, saying with mock disgust: "Ugh, you're right."

Maverick smiled and pushed him away a bit more before heading off to the showers. That part of the room was separated by a half wall from the locker side. It was dark, it always was. He turned on the water and let it flood on his body and in his hair.

"Mitchell?" Ice called.

"What?"

"You're not a civilized person when there's nobody around, are you?"

Maverick chuckled, frowning under the warm water, his eyes closed, facing the wall. "I don't know", he said. "Why?"

The answer didn't come – or at least, not in the form he expected. It was hands slipping down his chest, it was a body pressing against his back; a head coming to rest on his shoulder as the arms locked him in a tight embrace. He placed a hand on Ice's muscular forearm and felt the force of it. Ice loosened the grasp; his fingers searched for Maverick's and interweaved with them. Maverick's free hand reached for his shoulder where Iceman's head laid; he found his lips, which parted at the contact of his fingers. He traced them slowly. Then, swiftly, he freed himself from Ice's embrace completely and pinned him against the shower wall.

"Who wants to be civilized", he whispered.

"Pete…" Iceman breathed.

Maverick placed his index on Iceman's lips. Somewhere in the building, a radio was playing. _I gotta make this vision alive…_ His hand slid down Iceman's soaked side to his hip and bottom, their eyes locked together in the darkness. Maverick pressed a bit more against Ice and their lips touched; for an instant, there was only the water was trying to find his way between their mouths, and the music. _Burning up the sky…_ Then it was a heated kiss, a long, passionate one, while hands wandered on naked wet skin.

_…got you in my sights… chasing the angels! _

Another swift move, and Maverick was behind Ice, both his hands on Ice's abdominals. "Be my fantasy tonight", he whispered in his companion's ear, along with the music.

Ice held his breath in anticipation.

And through the deep steam that was down filling the shower room, the two bodies were one.


	9. Beautiful dangerous

The room was filled with golden sun rays when Maverick opened his eyes that morning. It was a Sunday; tomorrow, he'd get back in the pilot's seat of his Tomcat for the first time since the accident. But today was shining before his eyes, an entire day to spend with Iceman, however they wanted.

Ice was still asleep, lying on his belly and breathing loudly. Maverick's hand caressed his back under the light sheet, tracing the muscles' outlines, observing Iceman's sleepy face. A tender smile dawned on Maverick's lips. Softly, he slipped between the sheet and Iceman, and lied down on him. Iceman let out a guttery moan, and stretched his arms in front of him. Eyes still closed, he grunted: "It's not that you're heavy, Mav, but I can hardly breathe."

Mimicking Wolfman's characteristic accent, Maverick said: "Why d'you call me Mav?", trying very hard not to laugh.

Ice jerked in surprise, trying to look over his shoulder, and it would've made Maverick fall off him if he hadn't grasped Iceman's shoulders just in time. He burst out laughing at the look on his companion's face.

Iceman's features relaxed, and he buried his face into his pillow. "You little bastard", Maverick heard him say. "You're gonna pay for this."

"Am I?" Maverick replied innocently. "I can't wait. What are you gonna do? Fuck me?"

"I might", Ice chuckled in his pillow.

They were silent for a while, Maverick's hands wandering in Ice's hair. There was a question that had been bothering him for weeks. He'd tried to find that piece of the puzzle, but in vain. "Tom?" he asked softly.

"Hm?"

"How did we… get together?"

Iceman shifted under him, turning his head to the side so his voice wouldn't be muffled anymore. "The first time you mean?"

"Well, yeah. I know about the second one."

"Right." Iceman sighed. "It's weird, you not remembering all of this. I feel like I'm living it all for the second time – I enjoy it, don't misunderstand me, I do."

"Weird for me too", Maverick mumbled. "But if you tell me…"

"It was the day after you killed Jester. Do you remember our little… altercation in the locker room?"

Maverick remembered every word of it. That day was the last day left intact in his memory. "Yeah. You said you didn't like me because I was dangerous."

"I did", Iceman chuckled. "Well, I meant every word. In fact, I hated you, because you made me feel things that I didn't want to feel."

"So what happened?"

"I didn't see you again that day. You were called to Viper's office. My first instinct was to wait for you to come back, but Slider dragged me home. He had no idea what was going on, he just believed that sentence as I said it, that I didn't like you because you were dangerous, and so did the others, I think. I wanted to wait for you and tell you the rest. That you were dangerous for me. And that, somewhere not too deep inside, I liked it."

He paused, and Maverick's hand came resting on his. "I felt that there was more", he replied.

"I could see that you did, from the way you looked at me and smiled. And when you left, you glanced back at me and I knew that there was no point in delaying it."

Maverick gave Iceman's hand a soft squeeze, encouraging him to continue.

"So the next day, after the flight, I told Slider to take the car and go home without me because I wanted to talk to Viper. You and Goose, as always, were the slowest to shower and change because you talked so much. I waited for you outside the locker room. Goose, I think he understood, and he was cool enough to leave us alone."

Suddenly, the blurry images in Maverick's head came into focus, and the pieces got together. The scene became clear, and it unrolled along with Iceman's words. It was his own memories, narrated by Iceman's voice.

"What's your problem, Kazansky?" he heard himself say in the memory. He'd said the exact same thing as the day before on purpose, giving Iceman a chance to continue where he'd left.

Memory-Iceman took a deep breath, and his response wasn't hesitant, it wasn't shy or sheepish, it was stating facts. "You're everyone's problem, but especially mine. I don't like you because you're dangerous. I hate you because you've got missile lock on me and you know it. I can't hold the tension any longer, Mitchell, I just–"

Maverick silenced him with a kiss, a solid, hard one, a glorious _shut up_. Iceman pinned him against the wall and responded to the kiss, deepening it, making it wilder. Steps resonated in the corridor; they broke apart hastily, and a quick push from Maverick's hand on Ice's lower back motioned him to the exit, and then to Maverick's motorcycle.

He climbed behind Maverick and embraced his waist. "You're allowed do drive fast", he whispered in his ear. The whisper ended in an impatient hiss that physically translated into the hardness pressed against Maverick's back.

"I remember now", Maverick said softly, opening his eyes to the sight of Iceman's neck and hair in front of him. Slowly, he leaned a bit more forward and gave his partner's neck a gentle, yet teasing kiss.

"Good", Iceman said, a smile of relief audible in his voice.

Maverick's teeth smoothly pushed against the naked skin.

"I love having you on me", Iceman whispered. "I love _feeling_ you."

Maverick shifted a bit, hard against Iceman's ass. His hands grasped both Iceman's forearms; his teeth pressed a bit harder.

"Are you gonna fuck me or what?" Ice groaned below him.

"Impatient much, Lieutenant Kazansky?", Maverick breathed in his ear, before resuming his bite-kiss, decided to make this last as long as he could.


	10. Phantom Eyes

They spent the majority of the day in bed; at some point, Ice decided that he was hungry, and disappeared from Maverick's sight for a while, only to come back with a complete brunch on a plate.

That evening, they fell asleep on the sofa, a vague blanket spread over their naked bodies. Ice's head was lying on Maverick's stomach, his hands on both Maverick's hips; his breath was regular and deep through his parted lips. It took a while for Maverick's just awoken eyes to get used to the darkness of the room, lit only by the moon.

He'd just been dreaming about them: a clear, realistic dream that, he was almost sure of it now, must've been memories. A bunch of them, from his time with Iceman before the accident. Various moments and places. Just the two of them.

He laid his hand on Ice's head, caressing his cheek and jawline. Ice jolted slightly. Maverick took his hand off, keeping it in the air for a few seconds. He didn't want to wake him. But, once he was sure that Ice was still asleep, he resumed his stroking.

"What would I be right now without you", he found himself whispering. "_Where_ would I be?"

His hand moved towards Iceman's neck.

"What if I hadn't remembered anything at all, and you didn't tell me?"

His fingers entangled with the golden hair.

"I'd be far from here, I wouldn't have gotten back up there yet. I'd be miserable if it wasn't for you, Tom."

"Yeah, that's what they all say", mumbled a sleepy voice from around his belly, making him jump.

"Shit. You're awake", he swore, startled.

"Heard it all, _sweetheart_", Iceman replied, ridiculously insisting on the nickname. "Getting emotional, are we?"

"Shit."

Iceman shifted, placing his lips on Maverick's abdominals, and gave him a slow kiss.

"Don't… I won't be able to sleep again if you…"

"I love you, Pete", Ice interrupted him, his voice tender but firm. He straightened his head, trying to see Maverick's eyes. The words lingered in the darkness between them.

The relief was audible in Maverick's next breath. They locked eyes. He leaned forward, as far as his suppleness allowed him, and whispered: "I love you, Tom."

Iceman moved forward and kissed him. Maverick reached for his neck, bringing them closer. Their lips danced a slow kiss, a promise.

They rested their foreheads against each other, their quickened breaths mingling.

"You're not tired, are you?" Iceman asked, his hand slowly leaving Maverick's back and making its way between them.

"I don't do 'tired', Kazansky", Maverick asserted in a mock serious way. His hand plunged to join Ice's; his fingers curled around it softly. He took a deep breath as Iceman's fingers began to move below his. Then, without warning, he pushed Iceman up and then down on the sofa. Towering above him, he breathed: "I want to thank _you_." They kissed feverishly. A breathless "Why?" issued Iceman's lips.

"For loving me. For being here. Everything."

Iceman smiled and held his breath as Maverick's mouth travelled South, leaving brief, hot kisses on its path. His hand fumbled with his companion's jay black hair. "Well," he chuckled. "I'm about to be glad that I love you, I gu–" The end of his sentence was drown in a gasp as Maverick's lips enveloped him.


End file.
